


Flowers of Mortality (Klance)

by TeeCup



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Depression, Gay, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Murder, MxM - Freeform, Violence, klance, mentions of selfharm, soulmate, trigger warning, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:22:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeeCup/pseuds/TeeCup
Summary: Flowers.This was the sole basis for what made up the human population. Clear indicators of what your future would be, and whether or not it would please each individual.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No disrespect to non-Klance shippers. Ship responsibly kids. This is a oneshot!
> 
> Just an fyi, in this AU Lance has attempted suicide in the past and has severe anxiety that makes it impossible to sleep. Keith has depression, but it affects him by making him a bit emotionless when he's going through a bad day.
> 
> This was originally done with OCs, but I think you'll like it in Klance form.
> 
> These mental issues are portrayed in the way I have them, I am not trying to romanticize them. '
> 
> Lastly, if the ending upsets you, I have a bonus one that's really shit but it makes me feel better knowing it's there lmao. Thanks for reading.

Flowers.   
  
This was the sole basis for what made up the human population. Clear indicators of what your future would be, and whether or not it would please each individual.   
  
These flowers are not the typical blossom, however, but rather a peculiar way to guide people to their soul mates. A wound on one's skin was a flower on whomever they'd been paired with by the universe. If one soul mate were to cut themselves on a mere kitchen knife, a mere scratch on their finger, their other would know by the flower growing from their own finger. If one were to break a bone, their other would find small white flowers, embedded in their skin like a tattoo, over the bone that was shattered. Death, however, was different. Were one soul mate to die, the other would be cursed to bear a tattoo consisting of black flowers, an everlasting symbol or their mortality in this world. If their other were to be revived, however, the tattoo would lose it's color, turning grey and becoming a warning to them both.   
  
Death is always lurking.   
  


* * *

  
Keith knew Lance better than anyone, so when he noticed him napping on his own for the first time in months, he knew it was for the best to leave without telling him. Lance had trouble sleeping as it was, so the fact that he was able to fall asleep on his own was pretty remarkable. Kissing his boyfriend's head, the older male grabbed his keys off of the table. Keith was planning to surprise Lance that night with tickets to some concert he'd been raving about while at a slightly expensive restaurant. Lance knew of the reservation, but he didn't expect anything more. Keith always treated him to dinner when he had a bit more money, so it wasn't like the fancy restaurant gave it away.   
  
Lance had been home for an entire week, unable to see Keith for more than three hours a day. His parents was strict when it came to school, and knew that Lance often slacked off with his schoolwork to see Keith. The one rule they had was that he had to be home before it got dark. Thankfully, his parents never paid much attention due to the demands of his jobs or because of all his younger siblings. They often fell asleep before Lance was even supposed to be home, so Lance often stayed at Keith's home anyway. This was one of those occasions, and it made Keith feel like the luckiest man alive. Nobody could argue that Lance wasn't extremely adorable sleeping in one of Keith's shirts, since the shirt was a bit too small and showed that small sliver of skin that Keith loved.   
  
With a small smile, Keith left the home, locking the door behind himself. He often thought of how lucky he was to have come up so much. He had the money to rent a home, he had the love of his life, and he was relatively happy. Arriving at his destination, a small flower boutique, Keith scoffed. The choices he had were all amazing, it took a large amount of searching before he could even pick a color.   
  
Lance, however, was going through an entirely different struggle. He woke to the sound of smashing, and then swearing. He knew instantly that it wasn't Keith, as the voice he heard was that of an older man. Lance noted that Keith's keys were gone, meaning that his boyfriend had probably snuck off while he was napping.   
  
Someone was in the house, and Lance was by himself.    
  
Keeping a calm head, he tried to think about his options. He was on the second story, meaning that escaping through the window was not an option. He hadn't done that in too long, and he had no tree to help him down. He'd definitely break a leg, or get stuck. He scanned the room, mentally cursing at himself when he realized that his phone was downstairs on the kitchen counter. His only options were to barricade himself in or go for his phone, and the choice was obvious to him.   
  
He didn't want to hide and then have Keith walk in without knowledge of the possibly armed man. He had to warn him, at least. His plan was to get downstairs, grab his phone, and get out the door. The only struggle would be staying elusive until he got to the door. He took his chances, removing his shoes to prevent extra noise and opening the bedroom door. Peeking down the stairs, he located the criminal. He was in the living room, which was connected to the kitchen. Lance waited until the man was turned around before quietly going down the stairs and reaching his phone.    
  
Grabbing the small object, he turned to go for the door, only to be greeted by the intruder.   
  
Lance was shoved, his feet leaving the ground. He fell onto his back, hitting his head on the floor. He saw stars for a moment, but the excruciating pain in his side was what caught him off guard. He directed his eyes at a fresh wound in his flesh, eyes widening in fear. It wasn't deep, but blood was instantly spilling onto the floor. Looking up in confusion, Lance's eyes focused on the glint coming from the man's hand. He held one of the kitchen knives, and it dripped with Lance's fresh blood. Before he could thoroughly process that he'd been stabbed, the male had pounced on him.   
  
Limbs were tangled in combat as Lance tried to wrestle the man off of him, but it didn't end well. He shoved the man, pulled himself up, and pressed against the wound. Just as quick as he got up, he was pulled back down by his ankle. This time, he had no hope of winning. The burglar held Lance down, sinking the knife he held in and out of the teen's arms and side. The man knew he'd won, especially since Lance was so scrawny compared to him.   
  
Down the street, Keith had finally decided on a bouquet, one made up of blue flowers, as that seemed most logical. Blue was Lance's favorite color. He was caught off guard by the flower suddenly pushing against his shirt. This wasn't the first time. They both had gotten small scrapes and such before, and Lance used to slit his wrists, but that was a darker time. Keith was used to the flowers, no matter how uncomfortable they were. It was when they began to grow all over his body that Keith got worried.   
  
Dropping the bouquet, he began to speed out of the store, pulling his phone out to call Lance. It rang for much too long.   
  
Then came the noise. The sounds were gruesome, and downright disgusting. The squelch as knife entered and exited Lance's flesh was easily recognizable, as were his blood curdling screams that followed. Keith didn't speak, he didn't need to. He knew what was happening, but what came next was even worse.   
  
Crying and gasping, Lance tried his best to get his words out to Keith. Answering the phone was going to cost him his life, and he knew that. Part of him knew that he would have died regardless, but this sped up the process. "I love you. I love-" He was cut off.   
  
Another stab.   
  
Another flower.   
  
Lance's begging came through the receiver next, even though he knew it was futile. He told the man he wouldn't rat him out. He told him he could take what he wanted. He just wanted to live. He screamed once more, his mind going to all the people he'd leave behind.   
  
Keith's brother, Shiro. His best friends, Hunk and Katie. His parents. His siblings. Keith. Even his dog, Blu, who he knew would have been fighting for him had she been present.    
  
He had the opportunity to call 911, but he saw it as something useless. He knew he was going to die, so he would much rather waste his last breath telling Keith he loved him and hearing his voice, rather than hearing 911 tell him to stay calm.   
  
"I love you. Okay? Please, tell me you love me." Lance finally squeaked into the phone, fear evident in his voice. He wasn't going to hold the man off for long. Keith finally began to speak, realizing he had been standing stationary for the longest time and just listening. "Lance, you're going to be fine. I'm coming, just-" Lance butted in, too afraid to die without hearing it again. "JUST SAY IT."    
  
Keith couldn't help the tear rolling down his face.    
  
"I love you."   
  
The line went silent, apart from a slight rustling and Lance's sharp inhale.   
  
One last flower sprouted, right over Keith's heart.   
  
Keith dropped to his knees, the shock finally allowing him to move. The call continued, but there was no point in listening anymore. His Lance was gone. At least, that's what he assumed. Pulling his shirt back, he noted the fact that the fresh flower was still alive.   
  
_ 'He’s not dead.’ _   
  
Keith began to run to his place, the tears in his eyes dispersing as he just hoped he wouldn't be too late. He knew how the flowers worked, and he was honestly glad to have looked it all up. His body was covered in nearly invisible white tattoos, signifying the previously broken bones of his soul mate. He also had the one grey one across his chest, signifying Lance's play date with death two years prior. The suicide attempt was the first scare Keith had gone through with Lance. Seeing the black flowers turn to grey when Lance was revived, however, was the most relieving thing Keith had gone through his entire life. In this situation, the only thing he had to worry about now was a black tattoo, which meant that Lance was dead.   
  
He would not allow that on his body. He refused.    
  
Not again.    
  
Keith made it to his home, finding the door knob broken. Anger coursed through him, but it wasn't the right time. Entering the home, he found what he was looking for instantly. The kitchen was in his peripheral, and the blood on the floor was a clear indication of where Lance was. Keith ran to his side, kneeling by his unconscious boyfriend. For a moment, he just stared, assessing the wounds with his eyes. They were all small, and not even remotely deep. That was thanks to Lance's struggling, preventing the guy from making a clean stab. That was until the end.   
  
The wound on Lance's chest was the source of most of the blood, and the reason he was no longer responsive. Keith dialed 911 on his phone before tossing it aside, pulling Lance to his chest. Pulling Lance's shirt off, Keith began to pressure the wound, causing Lance to wake in pain. "Don't waste your energy." He couldn't help the crack in his voice as he looked down at the man he came to love. He couldn't handle pressuring the wound himself, as he could feel Lance's pulse as he did so. His heart was slamming, probably due to the excruciating pain and his evident fear of death. Keith moved his hand, grabbing Lance's and having him pressure it himself. "Just...just keep your hand there. Push down, no matter how much it hurts."   
  
He'd lost so much blood.   
  
Lance opened his eyes, his head falling against Keith's chest. He was tired. He just wanted to go to sleep. Glancing at the floor, his eyes widened. A shadow approached the two, and Lance realized that the burglar was still in the home. He tried to speak, but between the overwhelming pain of the wound and the blood building in his throat, he was unable. He choked on the blood, gasping for air after spitting as much of it out as he could. Still, all that came out when he spoke was a gurgle.

_ ‘Behind you! Please! I don't want you to die!’ _   
  
The tears fell from his eyes once more as he hid his face in Keith's chest. A second later, he felt his boyfriend's body lurch. Blood leaked onto the floor, but it no longer belonged to Lance. Curling up to protect Lance, Keith allowed the man to stab him repeatedly. Lance cried, coughing up blood as he watched more blood beginning to form a puddle beside them. Keith, however, didn't mind. He didn't mind dying if it meant that Lance wouldn't.

_ ‘He'll be fine without me.’ _   
  
Keith envisioned Lance's life without him.

_ Lance will refuse to let go. He'll refuse to love again. It's understandable. _

_ He won't look in the mirror for the longest time, but once he does, he'll see an empty shell staring back. Then he'll see the tattoo and finally break down. He'll grieve. He'll be okay. He'll understand that I'm not coming back, and that it's okay to be sad. He'll heal. Get a job. Knowing how corny the three of them are, he'll probably open a flower boutique with Hunk and Katie. _   
  
Keith had thought about it before. What they'd do if he died. Everyone thought about it every once in awhile; Keith was no different.

_ He'll move in with them, and manage the shop on his own most of the time. People will know what happened, but they won't believe it due to how happy he is. They'll ask him if it's true, waiting for him to dismiss it as some tale. He'll say, “Heh, yeah. That happened.” He'll touch his promise ring involuntarily. His smile would fade a bit. _   
  
The world around him was frozen as he thought it all through. In a moment like this, he never expected to be planning out his boyfriend's entire life. Only now that he had, he had begun to see that while Lance could live on, he would never be entirely okay.

_ Lance will still go to bed every night, and wake with his night terrors. He'll call me, he'll request cuddles. He'll turn over. “Oh yeah.” Again, he'll involuntarily stroke his ring. He'll curl up. He can't sleep without me. At least, not without help. _   
  
_ He'll take a pill. _   
  
_ He'll go to sleep. _   
  
Keith came back to, blood running down his back and arms. Lance was still safely blocked from the weapon's damage, but at this point, Keith had realized that he was wrong to be so selfish. Lance would get better, but he wouldn't /want/ to be without Keith. He would rather have him, or die too, but in this situation, he would have neither option.   
  
Not unless Keith fought.    
  
Setting Lance down, Keith told him to keep holding the wound. Then a second later, he turned to the man, grabbing the knife by the blade. It cut into his palm, but adrenaline fueled his actions. Keith was up and fighting as soon as he was able, only looking back at Lance when he had the man secured. "You better not die on me, Lance!" Despite his wounds, he was stronger than the intruder, so the fight was not exceedingly difficult. What was hard was trying to incapacitate him and watch over Lance at the same time. As the fight went on, Lance was growing extremely pale, and his pressure was letting up. "I swear to GOD, Lance, if you die on me-"   
  
Finally, Keith slammed his fist into the man's jaw just right, knocking him out. The adrenaline that fueled Keith began fading, and he stumbled over to the bloody mess on the ground. He pulled Lance to his chest again, pressuring the wound for him. Breathless, he spoke, hoping it would help. "I was going to...do this at dinner."   
  
With one hand, Keith pulled out the promise ring that was in his pocket. He was going to put it in the flowers originally. Silently, he slid it onto Lance's finger, and then handed him the tickets. Lance stared at the items, the tears falling once more. There were no other words. Time slowed down for Lance. He was afraid. His brain confused real life for his imagination.

_ The paramedics came soon, healing Lance. They were unable to save Keith. Lance was extremely broken up over it. Once he was allowed out of the hospital, he immediately went back to his own home and locked himself in his room. He ate the bare minimum. Everyone feared that he would attempt, but that was not the case. _   
  
_ He refrained from that, knowing Keith wouldn’t have liked it. _   
  
_ The only times he left his room was to shower as well as jog to keep his body functioning correctly. People often saw him, congratulating him on his engagement when they saw the ring. They weren’t aware. _   
  
_ “I have no reason to be congratulated.” _   
  
_ Eventually people stopped bringing it up. _   
  
_ Lance did everything to the smallest extent, and was constantly drugged up so he could sleep. The rest was never good, but he had to do it anyway for his health. Shiro visited once. Somehow, probably due to his fatigue, Lance mistook him for Keith, as they look slightly alike. Lance hugged Shiro, pulling back with a smile, until he realized it wasn’t Keith. _   
  
_ Sleep deprived, drugged, and depressed, Lance did what anybody in his situation would do. _   
  
_ He filled with instant rage. _   
  
_ As tears poured down his face, Lance began to slam his fists into Shiro’s chest repeatedly, screaming at him as if he had purposely done wrong. _   
  
_ “Why would you do this? He’s gone! DO you understand? He’s gone and he’s never coming back! Who would you come here? Don’t you realize that you look just like him? You jerk! He was mine! I hate you! I hate you!” The adrenaline kick dispersed, making Lance’s punches mere dull thumps against Shiro’s chest. _

_ “He was mine… and he took him away…” _

_ Lance was silent. He was frozen. Eventually, he looked up, bloodshot eyes meeting Shiro’s. _   
  
_ “Get out.” _   
  
_ He slammed the door after Shiro obeyed, causing the sheet on his mirror to fall off. He froze, seeing himself in it from the corner of his eye. The tattoo that curled up his back and slightly over his shoulder. _

_ He knew what it meant. _   
  
_ 'There's no one to come and save me anymore.' _   
  
Time soon went back to normal, and Lance found himself in Keith's arms again. He was still there, still alive.   
  
And then it began to get dark.   
  
He didn't care about himself dying, but he knew what Keith might do if he did. But what could he do? He had no control over his stumbling pulse. Lance's world darkened. He couldn't hear. He couldn't breathe. He felt Keith's attempts at making Lance pressure his chest wound again, and then giving up to do it himself.    
  
Then it all went black.   
  
Keith could feel the stumbling and weak, yet rapid, beats of Lance's heart. And then it just stopped. No more pulse. His chest had risen as he took in a breath, but that was where the motion had stopped.   
  
The flower that had sprouted over Keith's heart suddenly burned into his skin. A black tattoo.   
  
Keith froze. He was weak. He suddenly remembered that he was bleeding out. Unlike Lance, who'd pressured his wound, Keith's had been bleeding freely the entire time. It took mere minutes for Keith to go down. Medical help arrived seconds later, but both men were unresponsive. The flowers that had been on Lance's back now burned into his skin, the last mark Keith would ever have on the world.   
  
The symbol of both his life and death.


	2. Cliché Ending

Lance sprung awake suddenly. His latest dream had been the worst night terror he'd ever had by far. He was drenched in his own sweat, and his heart felt like it was going to escape from his rib cage. Tears streamed down his face. He was ghostly white.

He couldn't breathe.

Keith was not beside him in bed, but was just downstairs. Still, Lance began to scream, pulling at his hair with his knees at his chest. His lip bled slightly due to biting it in his sleep. His head pounded with a migraine, yet he continued to bawl.

He looked like a mess.

He was beyond scared, beyond terrified.

His screams were heartbreaking, and he had come to believe that Keith was actually dead. He believed that he somehow lived through the stab wound, and that this was his life.

Without Keith.


End file.
